


Traps

by Missy



Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types, Scooby Doo Where Are You! (TV 1969)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Plans, Survival, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 23:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2600834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The zombie apocalypse is a lot scarier than any old man in a rubber mask.  Good thing the Scooby gang has an awesome friend like Velma to keep them going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traps

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ZombieFest '14, prompt: 202. Scooby Doo -- Ensemble -- real zombies are just as vulnerable to Velma's wit.

“Vel, I know you’re, like, totally super cool and brainy, but, like, could you freak out a little bit for me?”

Shaggy’s voice broke the silent world around them, but she didn’t cringe. Her fingers instead kept massaging the hemp rope they’d hand-braided into something tight and sinewy. She checked the stitching anchoring the rope to its canvas tarp; yep, it had remained true, strong and ready for use. 

Velma rose from her crouch, wiping away dead leaves and splotches of dirt from her knees as she double-checked the weight anchoring the tripline Shaggy and Scooby had helped her string across the woodland trail. “There’s no time to panic, Shag. We can be cowards or we can be survivors – and I’m going to live.”

Her determination gave him a sort of succor. Vel had unsurprisingly kept the coolest head of them all when this invasion of zombielike creatures had started. She was the one who has saved his life by noticing the creature bore no rubber mask, and she was the one who had directed their gang in hunting and stockpiling, under the likely event of society’s eventual breakdown. She was even prepared to help serve as an assist to the medical team feverishly working at the science center a few miles back up the road, where the entire gang had been crashing with the permission of Velma’s father. Shaggy knew she had to be scared sometime, but he honestly couldn’t recall ever seeing her upset; she was a wall, a monolith, a bolster that has stopped them all from sinking into nothingness.

A sudden rustling from the bushes disturbed Velma’s tough statement. Shaggy yelped, throwing himself into Scooby’s arms, as Daphne and Fred emerged from the underbrush. The youngsters looked tired but prepared for the worst; they’d been crawling through the rushes all morning setting up everything to Velma’s specifications. You could tell how dire the situation was from the fact that Daphne wasn’t busy complaining about having gotten her outfit dirty and ripped her hose during the journey, she just brushed the dirt from her thighs while Fred spoke. “We’re all set,” he said. “There are two pounds of ham up in that net.” He tucked his hands into his pants pockets. “I hope that tricks them. My uncle Orville always said a ham’s a terrible thing to waste.”

“Like, don’t remind me,” Gulped Shaggy.

“It should work just fine.” Velma tugged gently on the fishing wire attached to the bundle – it didn’t give. She grinned. “See? It’s tight as a drum. Nothing’s going to break that line.” Then she heard it; the far-off snapping of branches, the moan, the cry, of bodies dragging around dead brains. Velma only stood a little straighter. “Places everybody!”

Daphne and Fred shimmied up a tree, Shaggy and Scooby tried to blend in with the underbrush, and Velma stood in plain view within the clearing, brave and true, her eyes clear and her expression steely. Shaggy felt every hair on his arms stand up, heard the moaning, groaning wail of a traveling creature. 

The zombies shambled blindly into view so suddenly, but Velma didn’t seem at all surprised. She stood still and watched them, standing before her trap door, her look steely. Crouched with Scooby, petting his trembling back with his free hand, Shaggy had to bite back his own whimpers of fear and confusion. Fortunately the monsters were too focused on the pounds of fresh ham dangling over their heads to pay attention to what stood before them; they pulled to a halt and, moaning, reached over their heads and tried to reach the hunks of sweet-smelling flesh.

Velma did nothing. Indeed, she waited for their rotten feet to stumble into view before shouting “NOW.”

That was Daphne’s cue to yank the rush mat covering the hole she and Fred had dug out just as the zombies stepped toward it. As always, Daph was completely on-target – the rushes snapped back immediately, and Velma grabbed the opposing end of the wire , the one hemmed tight to the hem of the tarp, tripping the line of zombies as they tripped forward into the open pit.

Once all of the zombies had tripped to their fate, she quickly joined with Daphne to cinch the tarp closed. Fred and Shaggy then rushed forth from their hiding places to nail a thick, specially treated canvas over the maw of the gap. Simple pegs and stakes anchored the covering to the ground, keeping the zombie howling safely contained inside. 

The gang gathered around the now-covered pit. Except for the occasional thumping sound and the occasional impression of a head or a fist banging against the covering, the zombies were otherwise uncomplaining –though, Velma hastened to add, definitely not silent.

“That ought to hold them until they finish rotting out,” Velma said, finally allowing herself space to breathe. She bent again to scritch Scooby’s chin. “Good work, guys.”

“Like, it’s no big deal, Vel,” said Shaggy.

“Yeah,” Daphne agreed. “It was your plan right from the start. All we did was help out with it.” 

“That’s not true, Daph! It was a team effort, through and through,” Fred said.

“We just strung a trap made of dental floss and chicken wire up from the ceiling and trapped ten zombies that were going to, like, eat our lungs,” Shaggy said. “I don’t care who did it, I’m just glad somebody did!”

“Reah!” said Scooby.

“Fred’s right,” Velma said. “Without you guys to help out, my plans wouldn’t work. That’s the beauty of teamwork. And speaking of eating,” Velma said. “We’ve got a big, juicy ham hanging up in that tree. Why don’t we get a fire going and roast it up for dinner?”

Shaggy led the team out of the clearing, back toward the ham. “Like, now you’re talking! Let’s scat before they figure out how to get out of that thing!”

But, like all of Velma’s traps, this one was foolproof on both sides of the canvas.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction uses characters from **Scooby Doo** , all of whom are the property of **Hanna-Barbera/Turner Entertainment**. No money was earned from the writing of this piece of fanfiction, and the author makes no legal claim upon the characters within.


End file.
